Pushing The Sky
by lyrainthedark
Summary: Takes place after the end of the movie,but before the series is supposed to 'pick up' the story again with episode 24. In the aftermath of the nano-scare and its cleanup the Bebop crew is once again dragged into the action; death and destruction follow.
1. Prologue: No Rest For The Wicked

_**Prologue**_

**No Rest For The Wicked**

* * *

It was stupid, really. As soon as he loved her – the burning kind of love, the hot, soaking, laser-pistol kind of love – he should have known she was dead. It always happened that way, and just afterward, it always seemed like he would die – like now. Only before, he had never managed to quite make it out of the game. Whoever was holding his string seemed to like dropping him right back in, and the last time – well, the last time had been the hardest drop yet.

So he should have known. But – what the hell? He was always a sucker for a pretty face, and hell knew that she had plenty more than a pretty face. Heaven might know too, but then that wasn't all that heavenly, now was it? A smirk flickered across his face like a ghost, and he reached into his pocket for a cigarette. He went through the motions without really paying attention; tap the bottom of the pack, pull out a smoke, fish around in his pockets for a lighter.

He hunkered down behind his cover, and lit it. The smoke didn't matter – they knew he was here, alright, but he didn't want any wide-eyed sniper to single out the flash of his lighter for a shot. He didn't even know if they had snipers, but now was not the moment to find out. The sound of a shot was his first warning, and not much of one, either. He pulled his limbs in around him, back behind the curving tusk of metal that hid him from view of doors and windows.

Being trapped in this courtyard wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he hadn't come here to sit around while some ass-brained rent-a-cop from Mars central tried to make him an intellectual equal. A hard smile spread around his cigarette; he finished it in four slow drags and rubbed it out on his heel as he stood, unbending slowly.

It had been enough time, now. There was no sniper, just rent-a-cops with expensive guns and bad aim. He flicked the butt of his cigarette off of one finger, and turned instantly with a slipping, whipping motion of arms and gun.

The man who had thought he was doing a good job sneaking around the inside wall of the courtyard dropped with a bullet in his eye. His buddy snuck right into a steel-fisted punch, and fell forward onto the foot that speared his groin like an empty sack.

The cigarette butt hit the ground, and rolled away. Behind him, Spike heard a low, grunting cough, and then a clang.

"Hey, old man, what are you doing? Not without me under your arm."

Jet shook his head, flinging drops of blood like sweat, and draped his arm over Spike's much steadier shoulder. Despite the blood and the pain, he managed a low chuckle, muttering under his breath.

"As though it wasn't always me saving _your_ ass before this…"

Spike just shook his head, putting away his devil-may-care grin for later; sure, he'd need it. It was hard to remember, how they had got into this mess in the first place.

_Five million bounty, they say. Illegal weapons transport, maybe some mech-tech research on the side. But whatever we just found - whatever that thing is, maybe I don't want to know anymore. _

But the smile he had been hiding slipped out again, stuck on that thought.

_Definitely going to find out then. I won't stop, until I find him - anyway, it's my job now._

"Think you can make it the rest of the way back to the ship, old man? We don't have far to go - "

"Yea, I'll make it. Think I'd let a little punk like you show me up? Huh, anyway, like I said - I'm the one doing the ass-saving, remember? What were you thinking, running off like this by yourself - Ah! Hey, easy, there-"

"Sorry, sorry."

Spike moved his left hand, saw that it was stained with fresh red and winced a little.

"Really - sorry. But you know, I didn't ask for you to come after me, matter of fact I remember telling you to stay put - and Faye, too -"

A thought occurred to him.

"But don't tell me - you sent her out on some crack-brained rescue mission, too, didn't you?"

"Ha! As if. That woman, she reminded me right before I left that if I decided _not_ to bring you back, we'd be splitting all the bounty heads fifty/fifty!"

Spike laughed under his breath and hoisted Jet a little higher on his arm. They had come to the edge of the landing field where Jet had come down, but as he expected the guards and rent-a-cops were all gathered around Jet's little trolley-ship. He could see the tiniest bit of red poking out beyond the base perimeter, though. Swordfish was waiting for them, if he could just get across the open ground -

He froze. Jet felt Spike's fingers tighten on his shoulder and his waist, and then without further warning he was catapulted forward. He was caught off guard; his cheek scraped against the pavement as he dropped down on his face. The leg that had been mostly useless banged and cracked on the pavement in ways that told him it would now be completely useless. It screamed at him in new and alien languages of pain, plus all the ones he knew already.

"Dammit, Spike!"

He chose to howl his belligerence, instead of his pain - and really, he _had_ made a mess of things, this was more than half his fault - but a sudden barrage of machine gun fire blared out loud and sharp, cutting off any further words, or the thought of them.

There was a pause, and then a second round, and another pause, and then a third. Jet turned his head again and sucked in a deep, guilty breath. Spike wasn't crawling anymore; one of his feet was sticking out just a little into the view of whoever was shooting at them, and Jet reached forward with his good arm and dragged himself forward a few centimeters.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit -_

The word was more than a litany, it was a cascade, but the movement over the blacktop of the landing strip was excruciating, pain pushing back everything else - the guilt, the two-by-four windowed slit of his vision, Spike's body in that window, not moving - Jet reached forward one more time, and _pulled_, but his last thought before the black faded in was that he had been right, so right - it was all ending just like he'd always thought.

_Badly. And damn me, but if it hadn't been for that woman - _

He tried, but could not remember when it had all begun to go wrong...again.

* * *

A/N: Ah, fun stuff. I haven't forgotten this fic, but Faye hasn't been cooperating for the next chapter so I decided I'd do some long put off revisions instead! Much thanks to those who review, as well as all my readers in general! Also, for some reason this chapter just...disappeared! Weird. Anyway...I'm back! Woo!


	2. Chapter 1: Farewell Blues

_Chapter 1_

**Farewell Blues**

* * *

The corridors of the ship were long and dark and quiet. Faye stood by the last generator switch with her hand on Ed's shoulder, and flipped it. She had waited longer than Jet had told her to - but she couldn't help that. Without a past, she clung more desperately to the present, stared into the dark future with hungry eyes.

Sure, she laughed about it – her loss, her missing past - but her memory sometimes played tricks on her. She could hear in her head the words in a voice that was her own –

_Obaa-san, Obaa-san! Tell me the story, Obaa-san!_

Like an echo, like a ghost, she could hear the reply.

_Well, well, I will tell it to you if you settle, girl! Listen, then…mukashi, mukashi…_

Yes, that was it. A long time ago – and it had become far away, too. Now she knew what it was like to live a fairytale, and it was almost too cliché. Was she supposed to be the damsel in distress? Her thoughts were dim and quiet as she walked down through the blackness towards the dim lights outside the ship.

_Can't be, I have a gun. Maybe Ed…_

The name was a problem, though - and they had no faithful steed, just a dog with enough intelligence to make up for the antics of his preferred human companion. Most of the time.

Ed, however, had been surprisingly solemn. Usually when there was trouble, Ed was jovial, the problem solver, always running at the mouth and working, working on that computer of hers - but she seemed to have sensed that something was different, that something was…not right. Now, with the _Bebop_ powered down and the last bit of electrical hum leaving the systems of the big old ship, Faye turned away with a sinking feeling that it might be for the last time.

Beside her, Ed wiggled in place like a deranged performing seal.

"Ooh…no more power? Ed will sing a song, for the death of the power!"

"Ed! No songs, or I swear I'll -"

"Out ship-lights, out in the night! Under a dark sky, under bigger lights! Stars come down, falling around…"

Exasperated, Faye reached out and took Ed by the wrist. Arms outstretched, half in flight, Ed made circles around Faye, bound by the hand on her wrist, and then crash landed, rolling over and over. She was still singing - stupid song, really – 'Stars come down, falling around' -

"Stars coming down, as if -"

Ed heard her mutter and rolled over onto her back, lay flat against the pavement.

"But, Faye-Faye, look! They're right there!"

Almost in that same moment, Faye had no need to look up. She froze in a sudden circle of white light, rapidly widening, and shielded her eyes so she could look up against the brilliance. A loud-speaker voice blared at her from invisible projectors, and she felt cold, icy hands tickle her ribs.

"_Pilots of this ship, you are to be detained and taken into custody by Mars Central police, according to __Mars Civilian Government Ordinance eight-five-five dash B. Leave your engines off and your power __emissions at minimum. We are coming down to take you out."_

There was a three second pause, and then it began again: "_Pilots of this ship, you are to be detained…_" Faye took a deep breath, tried to calm a quiver that had been born all over her skin with the sound of that magnified voice. There were three distinct possibilities. Spike could be dead, and Jet captured in his pointless little rescue attempt. They could _both_ be dead, in which case she would likely be with them soon. Or…

_Or this little set-up means that the idiots at Mars Central have finally hooked up with Mars Army Intelligence. If they did that…they'll be three steps behind us, because I _know _that Mars Army isn't going to come clean about Vincent and the Devil. Not even to their own brass - _especially_ not to their own brass. And that means…_

Her woman's intuition was telling her that if she was careful, and played her cards right, she might just get out of here with a little intel herself. That could be useful; that could be worth a little extra. This time that pair of numbskulls would pay, or she would keep all the information to herself. After all-

"Ed, you stay back, d'you hear?"

There was no answer, not even a restrained giggle.

"Ed! _Ed!_"

As she called out, the night remained dark and silent around her, except for the echoes of her own voice. Faye sighed and decided that if _she_, with Ed-experience, was unable to find Ed, then logically the police, with _no_ Ed-experience, had no chance.

_Did I think _solemn _before? Solemn, and Ed? … I'm losing it…_

It was too quiet now, though, with that loudspeaker-voice gone silent. She could hear Jet in her head - idiot man – going off after Spike like that! And Spike - what did he think he was doing, running off on a mad vengeance trip, all dark-eyed and angry -

_For a woman - of course. _

The bitterness she was attempting failed on the first pass. A woman…yes. But not just any woman - a maybe-dead woman, a woman betrayed, a woman whose loss had caused a forfeit of truth, an eruption of vengeance like an orbital-escape engine set to overload.

_Electra_.

As she thought the name, Faye scowled and turned back towards the ship for one, last look. There was no light coming through the viewports; the brightness from the descending Mars police shuttle gleamed off the worn outlines of the _Bebop_ and made it look shiny and new for a single moment.

_They're coming down awfully fast - _

Quickly, Faye took a step forward and then tripped on purpose so that she came down on her hands and knees. She felt a sharp sting in her knees and winced, but the fall gave her a moment to undo one of her vest buttons and unsnap a garter; she scuffed her boot on the ground - doing _that _made her angry, but it would help, it would help - and then waited, trying to cower and not to smirk.

_If we set this up right in the beginning, they won't even know who I am - and anyway, in this sort of situation I _always _have the upper hand. _

Her thoughts paused, momentarily overcome by a terrible vision.

_Unless they suddenly started using an all-woman police force!_

She actually _was_ cowering when the shuttle landed, but she felt better as soon as looked up at the owner of a decidedly male voice. As she did so, presenting the tragic story of the terrible men who had kidnapped her and flown this ship, and then run off, she laughed at herself in her head. What had she been thinking? An all woman police force? Never gonna happen.

_The uniforms are terrible!_

"Miss…uh…"

She thought quickly. Her name - was it connected to Spike, to Jet? There had been that…incident…with weather control, but -

_He'd be able to find me in the - no! _

She smiled faintly; the cop who was talking to her was young and cute in a blonde sort of way - perfect, in other words.

"Faye. My name - my name is Faye. Officer - please, where…where am I?"

She could see by the expression on his face that her plea had been made in a sufficiently vulnerable tone.

"You're at Syria Planum landing dome, Miss Faye."

Faye continued to look confused.

"On Mars, Miss Faye. Miss Faye?"

As if on cue, she fainted, with perfect aim.

"Miss Faye!"

It was a terrible struggle to keep from smiling, but she was supposed to be distressed – and unconscious.

_Such a gentleman, catching a lady like that. Sorry, cutie…but thanks in advance._

* * *

A/N: Ta-da! Because of you, _Sincerity_, and your review, Chapter 2! (well, actually chapter 1, but...eh) I am beginning to have an actual plot now....oh dear. HA! Please Review! If it sucks, tell me. If it doesn't suck, tell me that too! Writing Faye Is Fun! Revisions of chapter 1 complete now; joy! Reviews are appreciated as always!


	3. Chapter 2: Deep Breath In A Vacuum

_Chapter 2_

**Deep Breath In A Vacuum**

* * *

Jet awoke in pitch darkness, crammed very uncomfortably into the too-close confines of somewhere that smelled _horrible_.

_I'm not dead. Huh. I wonder, is this what they've decided to use for interrogations now? Because that would be seriously - _

Light. Sudden, glaring, bright, _goddamn __**light**__!_

He closed his eyes tightly and his arm came up like a rocket, aimed straight for…whatever. He heard a "whoa, Jet!", and then the sound of a sidestep that he knew too well. Ignoring the promise of a terrible eye-assault, he looked up again - and this time, it was only moderately too bright, and he could see a familiar silhouette against the brightness. It faded fast, and left Spike behind, bedraggled, black-eyed, bloody - but alive. All right.

_Alive -_

"You bastard, you're alive!"

He lurched upwards against the confines of whatever was holding him down and felt the restraint on his upper body give way; he was almost up, and then -

He had forgotten his leg; as it crumpled beneath him, he felt the explosion of pain into his consciousness, white and bright, and then, following swiftly, the blackness.

When he awoke a second time it was with more clarity, and a dull ache in his leg that he knew he would never be able to forget - _never_. He could almost feel the bones grinding against each if he tried to move even the smallest bit - or hell, maybe he _was _feeling the bones grind against each other -

The thought made him feel faint and he commanded it sternly out of his consciousness.

"Feeling better, Jet?"

"Huh?"

He looked over at Spike quickly; same cocky smile, a little faded, a little worn. Same jacket, bullet holes anywhere that couldn't have killed him, not a wrinkle anywhere else.

_Alive_.

Jet remembered, now. That was why he had tried to stand up - to kill the bastard, because he was alive. The last moment of his consciousness before the dark had pulled him under was sharp in his memory, all black outlines against a white background, red blood, red pain, Spike, falling, slow motion – and then stillness.

He almost got up again, and thought better of it before the intention had finished crossing his mind.

"Jet?"

_Hmph!_

"You still here?"

His voice was as gruff as always, but he was looking at Spike out of the corner of one eye.

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta pilot this thing, and you're not gonna be walking for a while, old man. And I wouldn't move, either, if I were you - not til we get you somewhere to get that leg fixed. I could maybe set it, but we don't have an-"

"You? I'm not lettin' you within ten _feet_ of my leg!"

"S'only a five foot cockpit, old man, sorry. Anyway, like I was saying - we don't have anything I could use as a splint anyway. But I got some slapshots from the lab we were in, and that bio-pod seems to be doing a pretty good job on the tissue damage - "

"_Bio-pod_?"

"-or it was, until you stood up. Yeah, bio-pod. The thing you're in…they probably had smaller test subjects than you, though, it was a tight fit – never mind getting it in here!"

Jet scowled and rolled his shoulders.

"No kidding. But you - you were _dead_. I saw - "

"You saw me fall, and blood go everywhere?

Jet's scowl only deepened. The freakin' kid was smiling! Smiling, like - like - what the hell was that smile, anyway?!

"Yeah, something like that. What was that, Spike? What are you playing at?"

"I took some of the blood packets, too. Thought they might be samples or something, and Ed could check 'em."

He shrugged.

"But, since they were about to machine-gun us, I thought it would be better to play dead."

"Play…dead?"

Jet's scowl had faded in a fog of confusion.

"I let them shoot up my pockets, dropped a couple of those packs and flopped down on them, you know, like a dead body. Sent blood flying _everywhere_ – and you don't think soldier-boy and his little army there do their own clean up work, do you? I grabbed you and got out of there before anyone could come and take care of the mess. Careless, you know? Not even checking to see if we were really dead."

Jet closed his eyes to shut out Spike's face. A pulse was beating in temple.

"And you didn't think to _tell me about it!?_"

Spike leaned backwards away from Jet's shout.

"Careful, Jet, you'll blow something…"

"You didn't think to tell me about this little plan, didn't think to warn me, so that _I_ wouldn't think you were really dead?"

Spike was beginning to look a little guilty now, and Jet looked away, satisfied.

"It wasn't like I planned it that way from the beginning, you know! I didn't think you were gonna come running after me in the first place -"

"Like I'd let you go out and get yourself killed all alone over some woman!"

"She wasn't just some woman!"

Spike's face was suddenly livid; there was darkness in his face, a monster that Jet recognized.

_Revenge._

"So she was a special woman. Spike, you can't let yourself get killed over this. I thought - you always told me that you couldn't let yourself get killed, yet. That you had unfinished business."

"Yeah…well, I wasn't planning on getting killed!"

"That's not what it looked like to me."

Jet had found him trapped in the lab, surrounded by guards who were blocking all the exits and entrances, jamming the environment-doors. He had had that smile on his face, the smile that is a dare directed at death, and his anger at that smile - his anger -

_My anger is the reason why my leg is busted. Stupid - stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He could see it bright and clear, his arm coming up, the bullet leaving the gun on a ripple of hot air, the return fire, shattering the leg of the table -

He stopped the memory before he got to the actual breaking of his leg. He had felt that enough, had no need to relive it…but his eyes were narrowed on Spike, and Spike was looking back at him impassively. He sustained his glare for a minute, and then fell back with a sigh. What was even the point?

"Where are we, anyway?"

"En route to Mars."

"Good. Take us down at Syria Planum, Spike."

"Why Syria Planum? That's…the middle of nowhere!"

"That's the point! I told Faye to bring the _bebop _there, and wait for us. She's probably powered down and made storage arrangements by now, but - "

"She can't do that unless she's got owner's papers."

"Yeah, I know."

Spike's eyes went wide as saucers.

"You gave _Faye_ the owner's papers? In her own _name_? Jet, you idiot, she's probably sold the thing twice by now and is on the run from the first buyer!"

Jet's scowl had returned full force.

"Just shut your mouth and fly this thing."

Spike turned around in his seat, and Jet could see him making course corrections; now that he was fully awake, fully aware, he could see out the cockpit in front of Spike, the thousand stars of the endless sky and the huge, dusky red globe of Mars spread out beneath them, the glittering rails and domes, the cities like a sparkling black spider web in the planet's nightside.

"Jet…uh, listen - "

"What?"

"Are you sure it has to be Syria Planum?"

"Yes, dammit! Syria Planum, the second docking dome, out away from the city's edge. I know a guy, works there, said he'd keep the ship safe for me - her."

"Right…"

"What's wrong now, Spike?"

"Well, with you in here, and the bio-pod, we used up more fuel than I expected, and - "

"And?"

"We're running out of gas…"

"Spike! Don't you _ever _plan ahead?"

Jet put his head in his hands, tried to take a deep breath.

_I just had to ask - _

Just barely, they made it into the dome, and Spike set the ship down gently. Immediately, Jet lifted himself up on his elbows and peered out the cockpit windows. He could see three other ships in the open area of the dome, all one-or-two man jobs, little fighters like Spike's baby.

Nowhere did he see the _bebop_'s hulking shape.

"Ahh! Dammit Faye, where the hell did you leave my ship?!"

Spike kicked open the cockpit and then leaned back into his chair, fished the pack of cigarettes out of his torn and stained pocket and closed his eyes.

"Told ya. Woman like her, probably sold it and took a tube halfway across the planet. You don't wanna mess with her type of woman, Jet."

"Spiiiike!"

Jet's shout echoed around the dome; Spike put an arm behind his head, and took a long drag off his cigarette.

_Don't wanna mess with a woman like that -_

Definitely not. He knew; he'd done it.

_I'm still doing it_.

Spike turned away, so Jet couldn't see the smile that suddenly took over his face, a hard, horrible smile. Every time he thought about stepping away, stopping, going back, he saw that face, the lips moving in it, his focus right on them like a camera-close up in a bad old movie. There was a scar down through those lips, a thin, perfectly straight scar; a mole, two inches to the right of the mustache. He heard the words play in his head, the voice of those moving lips, and almost bit his cigarette in half.

_"I took it all, since she wasn't going to need it. Do you want some?"_

Hands then, not lips anymore, still that ridiculous close-up. Blood, pouring off them, blood -

_"But you were lovers, weren't you? You don't need any, then. Already got you, already inside of you."_

Her body, somehow flattened-looking, her features frozen in an expression of terrible pain and resignation -

_"Oh, are you angry? Well, I didn't do it myself, you know. Sergei, step forward._"

Blond, terrible monster. _Soldier-boy_. Made him really angry, when he called him that.

_"Sergei will take care of you, bounty hunter. You can look at her while he kills you - see, how nice I am?"_

"Spike?"

_"How nice I am -"_

"Spike?"

"_You can look at her -"_

"Spike!"

His eyes shot upward; he forced the memory back, down, compressed it, quarantined it like a bad file.

"Yeah, Jet?"

His voice was casual, cool as always. His eyes were not.

"Help me out of this thing, will you? And find me a doctor!"

Jet had seen that bright, hard light. Vengeance, again.

_Gotta let her go, Spike. Gotta let her go, or you're going to end up so broken even God won't be able to fix it._

He smiled a little, though, despite himself.

_Or the Devil, even if he does seem to be on your side._

* * *

Phew! Behold, chapter 3! a little bit more background, a little bit more info, and a little bit of bad guy! much thanks to Sincerity (I saw that whole bit in my head and it was SO FUNNY. I had it to put it in, I couldn't help myself. Glad to know you liked it!) and Weinheim Paradigm for reviews! Coming Soon: Faye, A Blonde, and Why Nice Guys Shouldn't Talk To Bad Girls. mwaha :D

Revisions done; I'm reposting the whole damn fic cause it won't let me change chapter titles and I've gotten so confused with the prologue being chapter one...arg. So! onward!


	4. Chapter 3: Baby Be Good

_Chapter 3_

**Baby Be Good**

* * *

Faye woke in a pleasant warmth, heard a faint humming and wondered if the blonde cop had brought her to a hospital. Wouldn't _that_ be a laugh....

The humming was persistent, though, forced her to open her eyes; her gaze slid around, taking in the room where she was laying, in a quite comfortable bed; definitely not a hospital. She knew without needing to ask, as if the information had been downloaded into her brain, that this was the home of the cop she had fainted on.

_Too perfect. Is he serious, this guy?_

She saw a bookshelf, mostly empty, a few artsy table-top sort of books, obviously just for show - nice though, the furniture in this place, smooth lines, all old earth-pieces, probably rare, definitely valuable. Big screen television, one of the pricey holo-models you saw in the stores everywhere these days....computer console, much newer than anything on the _bebop_...

_For just some cop he's got quite a place here_.

She swung her legs out over the edge of the bed, and it was only then she realized that she was no longer wearing her own clothes - someone had changed her into a simple nightdress, long, pale blue, not quite sheer.

Her face scrunched up, turned red, redder - how _dare_ he! And she had thought he was some simpleton, bringing her back here out of pity. Obviously she had got that wrong...

As she stood in the middle of the room, trying to decide on her next move and figure out whether she should funnel her anger into a fist, a foot, or a firearm, the door creaked open behind her and she whipped around instantly.

The figure in the light from outside the room was plump and blonde; the features were indistinguishable in the door-shadow but the hair was like the halo of a mad angel. Faye blinked; she had expected only the blonde cop, had no plan for this woman.

"He...hello? Miss Faye, are you awake?"

_Then again..._

"I'm awake. I - umm...who are you, please?"

Faye tried to make her voice soft, vulnerable; it was easier than she had thought, fooling people like this - it was like they wanted to believe that she was pitiful. The woman in the doorway took a few steps forward and passed her hand over a wall panel; lights came on, not so bright that Faye had to cover her eyes, but bright enough to make her blink rapidly.

"My name is Elissa, Miss Faye - "

"Please, just call me Faye, Elissa. Are you...I'm sorry, I don't know his name, but are you that nice officer's wife?"

The woman, Elissa, smiled, and her face crinkled in unexpected ways, gave her a soft, fluorescent beauty that surprised Faye completely.

"You mean Allan, of course, but no - I'm his sister, not his wife. Our parents died - a syndicate of course - and he's taken care of me ever since."

Faye was confused by this kindness, the complete openness of this woman who didn't even know her.

"I'm...ah...sorry..."

" Oh, don't worry about it. That was almost fifteen years ago, and Allan takes the best care of me I could ask for - better, really. That was why I didn't question when he brought you here - "

"He did?"

_Stupid question!_

But Faye was aware that stupid questions occasionally brought out more information than intelligent ones - people told idiots anything, weren't afraid that the knowledge might become power.

"Yes, don't you remember?"

"I'm sorry, I don't seem to remember much of anything. There were these men....a ship. And then all this noise, and I was alone on the platform, and the police showed up almost at once -"

_At once! _

Faye was sniggering internally, trying as hard as she could to keep this ridiculous, extraordinary bubble of laughter out of her voice, from popping out her mouth. This woman was almost as dumb as her brother - did they think the world really worked like this?

_Then again, I was the one thinking about fairy tales and damsels in distress. But seriously, I should go find a job doing this, give up the gun forever! I'm so good at acting! _

"So you don't know what happened to you, or why those men brought you here?"

Faye shook her head, suddenly not trusting herself to speak. She could almost feel _bad_...except what would be the point? It wasn't like feeling bad about it made it any less necessary - it wasn't like she could just stop, spit out the truth....

_Or the lies which are currently the truth, anyway. Isn't that how it always seems to be?_

"That's so sad, Faye! Well, maybe we can find something about you on the MPND, hmm?"

Faye squinted for a moment at the acronym, trying to remember.

_Mars Police Network and Database. That's what I was worried about before, but I'm not in it. Coming out of cold storage has advantages after all._

"O...okay. If you don't mind looking for me, that is - I don't want to be any trouble."

"Of course not! Allan asked me to take care of you, and that's just what I'm going to do."

"Allan...."

Faye said the name slowly, fixing it to her memory of a smile, blonde hair, that voice, so young, so full of naive dreams...

"He should be back soon; he brought you here as soon as his chief cleared you of suspicion, but his shift will be over soon. It's already almost dinnertime!"

Faye let out a little laugh, pressed her fingers to her temples. This woman was...exuberant, and incredibly cheerful, and....

She sighed.

"Come here, Faye, and we'll see if we can find you. Here - input your data."

Elissa had folded back the computer console, and Faye sat in the plush chair in front of it hesitantly. This stuff - everything in this room - was so nice that she was almost afraid to touch it.

"Here, the keypad is on this pull-out panel, and here's your datascriber..."

Elissa stood over her shoulder for a moment, watched Faye begin to fill in the fields of information that she thought foolish to leave blank. Her name...Faye Valentine. Her age; for a moment she contemplated adding a few years, or subtracting them, just for fun, but...

_No point._

Place of birth...parent's names....well, that could be a little tricky. She wasn't sure what sort of files the cryogenics lab had kept on her, or what information was in them...but they had told her it was incomplete, sketchy - so much destroyed when they sky fell, they said.

She left the lines blank, blinked at the rest of the information with a sort of blasé humor. Address; occupation. Obviously blanks. Marital status - single, totally single. Citizen ID code - now that was a funny one, ID code indeed.

_Sorry, we don't have those when I'm from_.

She pressed the enter key, cued the search, and then sighed - it was Faye, this sigh, and not _Miss Faye_, but Elissa didn't seem to notice. The most prevalent questions in her mind were simple; What's next? was at the top of list, but her stomach growled and for a moment Where's dinner? dominated. Elissa let out a faint giggle, and Faye blushed, realized her body's irritation had been noticed.

"You're hungry - I should've guessed, sleeping like that! I'll go get dinner started right away! Is there anything you don't like?"

Faye shook her head vaguely, realized she should say something.

"No...no, anything is fine, thank you. Umm... I hate to ask, but do you know...my clothes..."

She held the fabric of the nightdress away from her body in one hand, looked down at it. Elissa flushed brightly.

"Oh! Oh, of course - I hope you don't mind, I changed you after Allan left; you looked so uncomfortable, sleeping in those...clothes...I'll get them for you right away."

There was a faint expression of disapproval on Elissa's face, and Faye's drained of color. Of course! _Miss Faye _would never wear clothes like her own clothes; they were too revealing, too out-of-character, too -

_Too spaced-out, too stylish, too hot._

She had to keep a smug grin off her face - that would _really _blow everything. She was not too anxious to do anything which might upset her hosts; this was a nice place - really nice.

But how to play it?

_Guess I'll have to pretend they aren't mine. Should I glare at them, and get mad at her? She seems like the type to get all teary-eyed - _

No. Perfect; she would just cry. She rubbed her eyes, hard, trying to make them a little red, trying to make them tear.

_Damn it, cry, Faye!_

She could fake the sniffles, but not the actual tears - men never had a clue but another woman was dangerous territory. Sharply, hard, as suddenly as was possible, she bit down on her own lip - and then again, accidentally_, _to keep from yelling.

_Ow! Ow, ow, ow - dammit - _

She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and Elissa chose just that moment to come back into the room, familiar shorts and vest in her hands, the long slinky stockings, garters dangling.

_Thank god. _

Faye let the tears flow over onto her cheeks, tried very hard to stare at her own clothes in shock, in horror. From the expression on Elissa's face, she thought she was doing a pretty good job.

"Oh - oh, Faye - Faye, what's wrong?"

There was suddenly a soft slam, the sound of a door opening and being shut, and Faye heard footsteps, a query.

"Elissa? Hey, Elissa, you still home? Where did you - "

The face of Allan, the blond cop, peered around the door, and then he took quick steps into the room, was down on one knee by Faye's side almost before she realized he was there.

"Miss Faye! Miss Faye, what happened?"

Faye sobbed harder; she could sense the moment that passed between Allan and Elissa, a brother-sister communication without words.

"_What's wrong with her?"_

"_I have no idea!"_

Faye took a deep shuddering breath, turned her face against Allan, tried to speak in a convincingly pained whisper.

"Those clothes - those clothes aren't mine! They gave me - _they _gave me -"

She could almost see the understanding break across the face of the two beside her; an evil little chuckle was pressing on her throat, and she coughed to cover it, sniffled as if the sobs were too much for her to hold back.

"Oh - my -"

That was Elissa.

"Those bast - I mean, terrible men!"

_Oh for - _

"It - it's okay, officer - "

"Allan, Miss Faye, call me Allan."

"Allan, then."

She pushed a smile through the tears, tried to make it bright, beaming; she had absolutely no conception of how well she succeeded.

"But...but really, you don't have to be so careful. I'm not as innocent as that."

Tired of pretending to cry now, she feigned anger that was only half-fake.

"Those men! They are - bastards!"

And she said the words fiercely, to make them slightly shocking, tossed her hair while she wiped tears from her face, sniffled.

"Miss Faye- "

And like she had said it to his sister, she said it to him:

"Please, just call me Faye, Allan."

She had no idea that he was seeing, literally, the cutest picture Faye could possibly hope to present on mars or in heaven; her short hair, bobbing as she hid her face, the blush he did not know was forced - just her toes visible, lacquered purple, from beneath the hem of the ridiculous blue nightgown.

"Yes...yes, Faye."

She saw he was blushing; she smiled wickedly in her deepest, darkest thoughts - and hid her face just in case.

_Gotcha! _

* * *

A/N: Ah...Faye, so much fun. I wonder how long she can keep it up? Ha! Coming soon: More Spike and Jet!

Revisions...complete! Wahoo! And onward....


	5. Chapter 4: Bossa Nova In The West End

_Chapter 4_

**Bossa Nova In The West End**

* * *

It took something like four hours to get from the dome where they had docked Swordfish to the basement of the hotel where an old friend of Jet's kept an underground clinic, safely out of the sight of authoritarian eyes. It was the walk there, dragging Jet alongside him, that took so long - and Spike honestly had no idea how Jet was able to haul himself along, hopping on one foot, for that long. The doc had blanched upon seeing the injury; both of them already knew they were looking at a month of recuperation, at least, and Mars central was probably the worst place in the system for them to be laid up. The best they could hope for was to lay low in the outlying regions and pray no one recognized them.

_But there's nothing we can do about that now. _

So, while Jet's leg was being worked on in the _underground_, Spike decided to go out and buy a hat.

Not just any hat; he wanted a hat that would match his jacket and cover his hair both, and he had a problem with _caps_, so he figured this little trip might take a while. It was that or sit and listen to Jet howl about medical malpractice.

Part of this sudden urge was the need for a disguise; if they were going to get by in this city, they would have to do so without giving anyone the heads up. He was surprised about one thing only - the crew of the _bebop _were not listed on the day's roster of new criminals, speeding down the view-sides of buildings downtown. Did those bastards think they weren't worth a bounty?

_Or maybe they don't want this to go public at all...not at all. That's gonna make it a lot harder for them to find us, though._

Spike tucked up the collar of his jacket, and leaned against the wall of the building he had been passing. Cigarette; flick of a lighter. He had come into a quieter neighborhood, less flashy than the inner city; no hat shops near here, though. Who could have guessed that would happen?

He let out a little _heh_ of self-derision, and peered out through the haze of his cigarette at the streets. The smoke, rising in curls in front of his eyes, helped to obscure his face. He could see clearly, though - and it was certainly time to have a look around these parts.

The buildings in front of him were low, walls made of something like brick, pale yellow-pink and with all the lines and separations worn to smoothness. There was that particular ripple-effect to the surface of the walls that came from machine-building and sanding, and then, in sharp contrast, the bright human touch of the overheads, the advertisements, graffiti here and there, neon and xenon signs blinking furiously like online page-headers.

The people could have been people anywhere, women in long dresses and pant suits, short skirts and jeans; fat women, thin women, women with children and women in groups. There were women with men, young and old couples, and the occasional wandering businessman with a harried look on his face and those _urgent_ steps - the kind that don't get you anywhere faster but make you feel like they will. Not many men, though; it was a weekday, not yet midday, and all the buildings behind and around him were full of workers.

_People are the same anywhere. Here, there, everywhere...._

There was suddenly a roar of sound, and then more roars; the sounds of motorcycles, good ones, coming at top speed with that Doppler-effect whine in front of them.

With the urgency and awareness born of obvious practice, Spike watched the people suddenly clear the streets, falling inward towards the buildings, clinging to them, folding back into alleyways.  
The people in their multicolored dress, their laughing, their talking, the playing of children, vanished. In the space of thirty seconds the lively street front had become a ghost-town, except for Spike, leaning against the brick and smoking his cigarette without a care in the world.

He heard the roar of the motorcycles approach, begin to pass him by, and then turn and stutter, stop.

He let out the quietest, most invisible of sighs. Was he always gonna have luck this good, or what?

_Seriously..._

"Well, what we've got here? You lookin' for a fight, slick?"

_Slick?_

He shook his head slowly.

"Boy does your opener need work."

Spike refused to look up and see what kind of idiot he was probably going to have the beat the crap out of this time; it was just too depressing. It was only surprise that jerked his eyes up when he heard laughter - not chuckling, not an amused ha-ha, but belly-aching, face-reddening, wake-the-dead laughter.

"That's a good one!"

_That laugh!_

And then a big, brown face was peering way too closely at him with a look of dawning recognition.

_That face!_

"_Spike_? Spike _Spiegel_!? Of all the dead men I never expected to see again - "

And Spike's eyes, which had widened out of all proportion, went from spurred boots to blue leather vest, took in black ponytail and black sunglasses, blue hat, and then blinked twice.

"No way in hell - "

_Van Tracer! _

Spike's eyes rummaged the scene thoroughly; this man was dangerous, and that meant the guys with him might be dangerous too. Their bikes were expensive, top of the line, but only Van's was custom painted with his personal _mark_.

_Van Tracer, The Striking Cobra._

In days he didn't like to remember, Spike had known this man, had fought beside him and then against him. He was a giant of a man but he had the ability to move with a stunning speed that was often so unexpected it gave him both first and final blood. His personality was irritating at best, though his skills were undeniable, and of all the people that he had ever met, Spike would have picked this man _last_ to renew acquaintances with.

_Lucky again._

And then he winced. That _voice - _!

"It is you! Boys, I want you to meet a dead friend of mine, Spike! We used to...uh...work together, shall we say?"

His grin didn't seem forced, and Spike was utterly confused. The last time he had seen Van Tracer, he had been less than gentle.

_What the hell is going on here, anyway? These guys - they shouldn't be out this far! This isn't Syndicate territory!_

Spike was interested to see that Van's _groupies_ were just as confused as he was, if not more so.

"Hey, Van, isn't that the guy you said - "

"Shot you up - "

"And then kicked you a few times - "

"Because -"

Spike counted quickly; four of them, plus Van, versus him with a pistol.

_Not bad odds after all, considering those four don't seem too- _

"Shut your holes, all'a you!"

Holes shut.

"Now, Spike, these boys of mine, here, are right; you were awful harsh to me the last time we met, but I'm willing to forgive and forget - seeing as...uh...well, you were...right...and all..."

Spike leaned his head in his hands; it was hard to keep from laughing and he was less than sure that he would be able to keep that laughter from becoming hysterical.

"Don't tell me - "

"I left the Syndicate - 'bout six weeks after you did, actually, and with a helluva lot less fuss, too, I gotta say."

"Don't - "

"You sure got style, though, can't deny that. Hey, you still with that woman...what was her name? Jackie? Julie? Oh - Julia! That was it! You still -"

In a movement so fast that none of them saw how it happened, Spike drew his gun and grabbed Van by the back of the head, fist clenched tight in curly hair. In another moment he had the barrel pressed against Van's teeth, hard - and he spoke quietly, with feral, glittering wildness in his face that shut up any comment or complaint.

"You aren't ever going to say that name again, Van. Not in my presence, or out of it; not ever - _ever_ - again."

Spike shoved him backwards and sent him sprawling across his bike and over, onto the pavement. There was a rustle from the darkness of the alleyways around them, and in a moment of good conscience Spike reigned in his rage, bent over, and looked Van in the eye.

"One other thing, too - leave these people alone. I come back here and find you've been harassing them, you know what's going to happen."

"You wouldn't hurt an old friend, Spike - I know you!"

Van was sitting up, and Spike was absolute sure now that this was the same person; as hard headed as ever.

"I _shot_ you, idiot! _Six times_!"

"But I'm still alive! And I figured out everything you were telling me, all that stuff you were talking about, while I was laid up. So -"

"Van - be quiet. And don't follow me."

Spike stood up straight and turned away; one last thing caught his eye.

"Nice hat."

He picked it up, settled it on his head, and tipped it forward.

"Be seein' you."

Van's call stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't suppose you'll be wanting your ship back, then?"

Spike turned around and had Van up by the collar before he could finish his grin.

"She sold it to _you_?"

But Van looked at him like he was crazy, laughed a little.

"Man, have you totally lost it, Spike? Being dead must not be good for your mental health. Heh. But seriously; don't you know what's going on with your own stuff? I saw a big ass ship come down last night, and then a bunch of Mars police right on top of it! Like they were the army or something, bang!"

Spike froze; his thoughts locked up and derailed.

_The army or something. Right - _

"Van, you're gonna tell me everything you saw, everything you _know_, right now. Start talkin'."

Part of his anger was the circumstances, and part of it was a little twinge of guilt; because all the way down from orbit, and all the way to the 'special hospital', he had been berating Jet for leaving Faye in control - and there was a spark - just a spark- of worry now, because chances were she was in worse trouble than he and Jet combined.

He saw Electra's body in his thoughts again, the rolled out flatness of her flesh, the endless waves of red, running -

_Faye, where are you? Don't get yourself killed, woman - _

* * *

A/N: AH! This is taking so much longer than I thought, because I STILL can't upload files. The last...three days now? Driving me NUTS! Anyway, I am awesome and pasted over onto the previously uploaded file...that seems to be working so for now I'll do that. I wonder if it's just me...Anyway, Spike, In Search Of Hat. Ha! And...an OC! Introducing Van Tracer, The Striking Cobra, Now Hatless! And much thanks to sidewalk serfer girl; some review is always better than no review! (much, much better!) More soon; Please Review!

Revisions, complete! Now, for a new chapter :D !


	6. Chapter 5: Material Girls

_Chapter 5_

**Material Girls**

* * *

Full of good home cooking, dressed in a borrowed shirt of Allan's and a _very_ old pair of Elissa's "skinny pants", Faye was following her hosts across a suspended walkway towards the shopping district. The walkway was like a glass bridge that ran from one building to the next, connecting towering spires and domes with a glittering expanse of transparent paths.

Beneath them, Faye could see the glimmer of other walkways that were similarly constructed, stretching between the various levels of high-class apartments, shops, and restaurants like so much shimmering thread.

"It's so high up it's scary...but it's beautiful, isn't it Faye?"

"H-huh?"

Faye turned quickly and then smiled at Elissa, nodded. She didn't need to fake how impressed she was with this place; if she'd caught all the bounties she'd ever gone after and won every bet she ever made, she _still_ wouldn't be able to afford to live somewhere like this!

She had only agreed to go out with the two of them because she couldn't think of a reason why _Miss Faye_ would refuse; she really wanted some time alone with that high-tech computer console so she could try to figure out what her next step should be.

_I have to find those two idiots, _and_ Ed!_

But there had also been the _teensy_ detail of the reason for this trip. Allan and his sister had insisted that they buy her some new clothes, so that she wouldn't have to wear the things Allan had found her in.

_The things those horrible men put me in. Ahh-ha-ha!_

She was beginning to question the gullibility of this hapless sibling pair; though she couldn't find it in herself to regret their innocent endeavors to please her, or even feel guilty, she _did_ find herself wondering why they were so willing to do so much for a complete stranger.

_Maybe I'm just a better actress than I thought. This really could be a new career!_

"Oh - stop, Allan - come on, Faye, we're here! This place is perfect!"

Elissa's voice broke into Faye's thoughts finally, distracting her.

"They have the most _gorgeous_ silk -"

Faye looked up and pasted a smile over her inner laughter as Elissa continued to gush...and then her jaw dropped open as she realized just what store they were standing in front of.

_This is - Zolantha's! _

Faye stood very still and tried not to hyperventilate. Zolantha's was legendary for its unique, one of a kind items, as well as its astronomical prices. Any woman who'd ever heard of the place would die to shop there, and now she was actually standing outside - being invited in!

_They want to buy me clothes here?!_

"In - in _here_? But you can't mean it - there's no way I could - "

But it was Allan, not Elissa, who interrupted to quiet Faye. He took her gently by the shoulders and squeezed her fainting fingers in a warm hand.

"Please, Faye! I can't stand to see you upset; we have to get you something! Besides, Elissa does all her shopping here, don't you 'Lissa?"

Faye took in Elissa's nod with something like shock. She did _all _ her shopping here? Who _were _these people? She was tempted to ask how all this was possible for a not-quite lieutenant and his unemployed sister, but held her tongue. Probably it was family money - the best kind as far as she was concerned - and if she _did _ask questions they would have to be careful ones, couched so as to avoid any implication of greed on her part.

But her time for thought was past; wide-eyed, almost pleading with her to step forward, Allan tightened his hold on her hand and led her towards the door. Exotic fabrics glittered in the windows, some of them bright with peeping metal and the sparkle of crushed gems. Faye allowed herself to be led with only one last protest.

"But really - so _expensive_ - something simpler, maybe -"

Allan only smiled and tugged on her hand; Elissa shook her hair and waved aside Faye's comment.

"Allan's right, Faye, just enjoy yourself! You _know_ you want to go in -"

Faye flushed.

" - and besides, it isn't like you can borrow anything of mine, we just don't have the same figure! Those clothes are just _hanging_ off you -"

Elissa tittered and patted her ample hips with one hand, and as she did so Allan reached out for the door of the shop and pulled Faye forwards so that she took a few stumbling steps into the store.

Bright, white light flooded the inside of Zolantha's with fluorescence, and spilled out onto the walkway through the open door. Slowly, disbelieving, Faye walked past the entranceway and stood absolutely still. She ignored the tall, bald-shaven doorman who was attending to Elissa, and was forced to repress a momentary urge to squeal and run through the whole shop, touching everything - the colors, the fabrics!

_Waaah! Calm down, calm down, calm down -_

"I'll just leave you girls alone, shall I?"

Allan was looking at the star-struck expression on Faye's face with amusement, and Elissa waved him off.

"Yes, yes, go on - we'll come find you when we're through!"

And as easily as that, Elissa shooed Allan towards the back of the store and latched on to Faye's arm.

"He'll sit back there drinking coffee and watching holo-vids for hours if I let him! They have a special set of spy movies and secret-agent flicks, just for him - never watches anything else, I swear!"

Elissa rolled her eyes.

"But all my friends get jealous when he comes out shopping with us; he doesn't complain like their brothers and husbands do!"

Elissa giggled and dragged Faye towards a long rack of sparkling fabrics, long shirts and short dresses, everything soft and silky to the touch, glittering like gemstones and glass under the bright lights.

"Well come on, Faye, this trip isn't for me!"

Faye browsed happily for quite some time; being in this place was like a dream come true, and the _bebop _and its wayward occupants were the furthest thing from her mind.

She saw a few things that looked outlandishly interesting. There was a long scarf with a tag that explained how its color would change depending on the air pressure, and a bell-sleeved blouse woven of hard silver links that could be made to lie as soft as silk. It was not until she came to the end of the second rack that she found something truly eye-catching that she might actually wear, but she forced herself to look away almost at once.

It was a hot little number with a short skirt cut to fall a few inches above the knee, sewn out of some deep blue material that glistened with threads of silver in a pattern she couldn't quite make out. Its lines were those of the _risqué_ gown of a femme fatale, seductive even in repose.

As soon as she saw it, she wanted it - badly - but she could not help thinking that it was far, far too much for _little Miss Faye_. The act had got her on just fine so far - she couldn't jeopardize it for a piece of clothing!

_Or can I?_

But she sighed, scowled, and then shook her head in defeat.

_Too bad, too. I'd be to die for in that dress..._

Unable to help herself, Faye reached out and tugged the flowing skirt into the light. She saw that the pattern was one of vines and unfamiliar flowers, but just then the sound of Elissa's voice came from the other side of the rack.

"Faye?"

"Ah -ah, yes, Elissa?"

"See anything you like?"

Faye dropped the hem of the blue dress, turned back to the rack.

"Oh...um...I don't know..."

Something in her face or her voice must have seemed guilty, because Elissa peered around the end of the clothes and shook a scolding finger in her direction.

"Ahh, but I saw you!"

"Saw me!"

Faye almost squeaked.

"Looking at _this_!"

Elissa stepped around to Faye's side of the rack and lifted the dress off its hanger, held it against her body and spun for a moment.

"Ah...if only I had the shape for it! You know, _you_ could get away with this, Faye - actually, I bet it'd be a perfect fit -"

Elissa held out her hands as if taking Faye's measurements from a distance, and Faye felt herself flushing.

_Oh for – torture me why don't you? _

"I couldn't, Elissa, I couldn't wear such a thing! And so _expensive_!"

She forced the words out of her throat and felt as if the pressure required to do so might give her a headache.

Faye had seen the price tag; in her way of figuring such things, it equated to about...six years of work, give or take one or two depending on if her catches were cheapies or not...

But Elissa waved a hand in her direction, as if the words were like a bad smell she wanted to get rid of.

"Don't worry about that, Faye - I'll say it clearer than Allan did, if I have to! Anything you want, anything at all, Faye! It's the least we can do, getting you some nice things to wear -"

"But - but _why_ are you being so _nice_ to me?"

The question popped out before Faye had a chance to second guess herself.

Elissa looked at her for a moment, surprised, and then grinned happily, shrugged.

"I was honestly a little surprised when Allan brought you home, myself, but after what he told me about what had happened to you, and then when I saw how nice you were....well, why _not_ help you?"

"But - "

"Listen, Faye, there's something I should tell you. We got the results back from that search of the MPND just before we left - and you aren't in it. Not your name, or even your picture! And we thought that it might cheer you up if - "

Faye flushed and then paled - she had not thought of that! A picture search - she had to thank her lucky stars for that one!

_Maybe losing all those bets was just saving up for this all along. Holy - _

"Faye, don't worry, Faye, we'll find someone - there has to be someone somewhere who knows who you are!"

Faye found herself being patted comfortingly on the shoulder, and could only guess at what had showed on her face to make Elissa jump to these new conclusions.

_Oh well. Can't hurt, really...but I've got to get them off searching for information on me! I haven't got a clue what sort of resources they have access to!_

"If you think about these sort of things too much, they'll just get you down, Faye! I shouldn't have said anything, oh...Allan's going to be so annoyed with me! Here - take this!"

And then, as if it had been her purpose all along, Elissa pushed the dress that had been the start of their conversation into Faye's arms, and sent her tumbling backwards across the store. It took a moment for Faye to realize she was being pushed into the dressing room.

"H-Hey! Elissa, what are you doing?"

Faye heard laughter from the other side of the door.

"I'm making you try that dress on! I won't let you out 'til you're wearing it, got it?"

Faye scratched her head for a moment, frowned at the door.

"You...you _want _me to wear this? But it's so..."

She paused, unable to think of the correct word.

"It's so -!"

She heard a giggle from the other side of the door.

"You've got great legs, Faye, why not show them off a little? And I'm sure Allan would like to see you in it, too."

And Faye raised an eyebrow at that, but what other protests could she make? Besides...she really wanted that dress!

When she had wriggled into it, it was less revealing but more beautiful than it had looked on its hanger, and absolutely perfect on her. The bust was gathered to enhance her cleavage, without making it overt; the skirt flared just above her knees when she turned, but otherwise the fabric was clingy enough for it to count as _slinky_, which she liked. The dress had been hung with what she had thought was a scarf, or shoulder wrap, but it turned out to be a long, sheer jacket with incredible sleeves, embroidered to match the dress.

There was a bit of thinking going on in the back of her head as she turned and postured in front of the mirror; Elissa's words had suggested a particular idea to her which she had not considered pursuing since she had become aware of the other woman's presence.

_Allan would like to see me in it too, huh? Only one day, and she's already playing matchmaker! Could be worse, though, she could be the other type of sister – the evil kind._

And Faye shuddered to think of it, smiled thinly and flipped up the ends of her hair. Steeling herself, Faye stood tall in front of the mirror with clenched fists and nodded sharply, whispered to her reflection.

"Right! This has to be my best performance yet!"

She let out a deep breath, and shook herself, and then reached for the door and set her face in faint smile.

"E-Elissa? Should I...come out now?"

The door opened a crack, and she saw an eye and a hint of fuzzy blond hair illuminated from behind by the brilliant lights.

"Are you wearing it?"

"Yes..."

And at that, Elissa flung open the door and proceeded to drag her out into the middle of the store.

"Faye! But - so beautiful!"

Elissa grinned and tapped her hands together gently; she was so pleased that Faye found herself actually blushing, but that could only be a good thing, considering the circumstances.

"Um...Elissa, couldn't I wear something...well, a little more, uh, _normal_?"

"Normal? Oh, silly! Of course, it isn't like you could wear that out every day, I already thought of that. Try _these_ - "

She dumped her armload of clothes into Faye's grasp abruptly, and Faye realized that the load of garments she had thought were Elissa's choices were actually Elissa's choices for _her_.

"And when you have that dress off, give it out to me and I'll send it up so they can get it ready for us. Oh - "

Faye was slipping slowly off balance under the mass of clothes, and Elissa reached out to take some of them back, grinning wryly.

"Sorry, Faye, guess I got a little...overexcited. It's just that every time I come in here I get the urge to run around and grab _everything_!!"

Faye stared at her for a moment in silence, and then burst out laughing.

"Elissa! That's exactly what _I _felt, too!"

After that, Faye found the evening to be considerably more enjoyable. How long had it been since she had done something like this? Had she ever? She thought so, though she could not fasten on any specific memory; there was a whisper of laughter in the back of her thoughts, a faint murmur that might have been female, girlish secrets shared over clothes hangers.

She thought that perhaps one of those whispers was her own, but as hard as she tried, she could not really remember the sound of her own childish voice.

* * *

A/N: And the next chapter is finally here! The end of the semester is upon me, and multiple classes and ridiculous work compels me to be slow with updating. (Also, Faye was not cooperating in the slightest until...well, just now actually!) But the semester is over in three weeks, and the next bit is coming along nicely, so – Fear Not! Coming Soon: Edward! In Action! And Everyone's Favorite Cowboy Canine! (and Spike too :D) Please Review!

Also, much thanks to Sidewalk Serfer Girl and Sincerity for your reviews! Reviews are warm and fuzzy!


	7. Chapter 6: I Wanna Be A Cowboy

_Chapter 6_

**I Wanna Be A Cowboy **

* * *

On the grass of Terraque Park at the edge of Mars Central Dome a slim, dark figure with bright hair was darting from tree to tree, waving arms and hands and occasionally feet in a schizophrenic mockery of ballet.

"Up or down, down or back, forward and up!"

Ed was hiding from invisible pursuers. For a short while, just after the ship had been taken, there had been real pursuers who had sought to capture her as she fled the police taking the _bebop_ - but for once, Faye had been right.

Within forty-five seconds Ed had not only lost the Mars police task force members sent out as mop-up, she had caused three of them to lose each _other,_ and one to shoot at a flock of low-flying pigeons that surprised him. The remaining four had lasted an addition half minute, before losing Ed completely in the chaos of alleys, low buildings, and apartment complexes that made up the outlying regions of Mars Central.

There was not much of real interest this far out from the main ways of the city, but the park was more than interesting enough for Ed, whose experiences with masses of plant life were rare enough for this to count as something special.

Ed had no way of knowing it, but Terraque was the largest bit of earth-planting on Mars, one of the old Green Air Project establishments. It had once been a center for meeting and reminiscing, especially after the Downpour had destroyed much of mother earth's original variety of life. Now, nearly a century after it had been built, Terraque Park was part of an older, less frequented part of Mars Central, and its after-dark boundaries generally encompassed a wide variety of less-than-reputable individuals.

Automobiles and aircraft of all kinds were forbidden in the park itself, but there were always a few who were more than willing to break the rules. Among them were drug dealers, mercenaries, prostitutes, and some new arrivals, all break-outs or runaways - not from prison, but from the syndicate – who were trying to build themselves a power base on the edge of the city...as well as the occasional bounty hunter seeking a quick buck.

None of these people would have attracted Ed's attention normally, and she was in the middle of a particularly elaborate series of pirouettes, when the sound of a voice she knew, raised over the sudden roar of several well-tuned motorcycles, jerked at her attention. As if she were on strings, Ed whirled around in the opposite direction from where she had been moving, and then dropped down to the ground.

"Spike?"

Butt in the air, fingers creep-clutching at the grass in front of her chin, Ed wriggled and pulled herself forward across the grass in the direction of that voice. Slowly, she raised her eyes and then blinked with surprise. At her side, her heretofore silent companion let out a faint _arf_, and Ed nodded in agreement.

"Yes! Ein, that is Spike for sure!"

Her whisper was faint, but excited, and Ein's ears perked as Ed tossed her head back and forth between her shoulders, thinking hard.

"What do you think, Ein? Should we go and see or stay and watch?"

Ein looked at her contemplatively for a moment.

"Go and see, stay and watch...go and see, stay and watch?"

"Arf!"

"Ein, quietly!"

"_Arf_!"

Ed nodded once, sharply, and wriggled forward another two inches.

"Right, Ein! Watching first-"

And in an even lower whisper, her right cheek flat on the grass, she spoke near Ein's ear.

"Just in case!"

Ein's tail batted at the grass in agreement. Hunkered down in the greenery, peering between the leaves of a stand of bushes, the pair of intrepid adventurers watched with wide eyes as the group of motorcycles they had heard coming turned into the clearing in front of them and stuttered to a halt. Ed's eyes widened and she let out an involuntary _Oh_! of surprise. It was, indeed, Spike, and the look on his face said _not happy -_ but Ed was most interested in Spike's new head gear than in his potential difficulties.

"Look, Ein! Spike is wearing a hat, now. Does that make him a _real_ cowboy? Ed wants to be a real cowboy too!"

But she beamed delightedly and hushed, because the group they were watching was close enough now that her fierce whisper might be heard – _she _could hear _them_, and Ed had a plan.

"But Boss, are you sure it's okay to bring this guy back here with us?"

"Yeah, he might -"

"Didn't I tell you boys not to worry? Spike here is one of my best old buddies - 's long as he doesn't start with the guns. So shut it!"

Spike's general sarcasm cut in over the muttering of Van's quartet of lackeys.

"Yeah, really. Best buddies, we are."

But he continued in harder tones.

"Enough, Van. I followed you here and I'm through with waiting; I have things to do. Talking starts _now_."

There was a shuffle of footsteps in response to the obvious threat in Spike's voice. Ed peeked up from behind the cover of her chosen bush, and watched Spike make his way through a slowly growing group of unsavory looking men, hands in pockets, face all casual, hat tipped forward. None of the gathering men looked overly intelligent, but a few carried deadly looking knives, and she saw one man conceal a pistol in his jacket as he turned away from a huddle of his compatriots and directed a nasty grin at Spike.

"Boys, boys - "

It was the voice of the big man in the blue leather who had been talking to Spike at first, but with an edge in it now, a hint of the truly dangerous person he really was. It was mostly lost on Ed; she was more concerned with slithering through the bushes silently towards her object of interest.

"Alright, Spike, listen. Last night, like I said, I saw some big old ship come down, a real monster – landed out in the old Syria Planum dome. We were, uh...we had some business out there."

Spike snorted.

_Business!_

"Sure you did. What happened after the ship landed?

"Nothing right away. After a while the lights went out and there was no noise; somebody turned out the power, I guess – maybe the woman."

"There was a woman! Where did she go? What happened to her?"

Van raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Ah-ha...that got your attention!"

"Van!"

"Alright, alright; she's a cute one though, Spike – anyway, 'bout two minutes after the ship gets powered down, a heavy cruiser comes down, bam, and starts blaring -"

At that moment, Ed, having made her way successfully through the bushes, made her dive – with perfect form. For a moment, Spike looked like he had grown another person from the shoulders up, and then Ed leapt away again, Spike's hat upside down on her head. Immediately, she darted towards the motorcycles. She was deliriously happy that her plan had been successful, and it looked like more fun was about to begin.

"Can't catch Ed – Ed is faster than lightning!"

Seeing her new objective, half the group that had been threatening Spike turned around and ran towards _her_ instead.

Behind her, Spike dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, scowled.

"Damn it. Took my _hat_. New, too."

Beside him, Van looked at him out of one eye and raised his eyebrows.

"Friend of yours, Spike?"

Spike dropped his head back onto his shoulders and rolled it back and forth for a minute, relaxing the tension. He could hear the swearing bikers still chasing Ed, and the occasional clash and clattering as somebody's motorcycle was knocked over.

"Spike?"

"Huh? Oh..."

He opened his eyes and looked over at the automotive mess of jumbled bikes and fallen gang members, and then grinned.

"You could say that."

* * *

It took ten minutes or so to calm down the bikers and get Ed to restrain her flailing to a space of about two square feet; Ein coming out of the bushes helped, since Ed felt the need to present the hat to him for sniffing -but she was then somehow obliged to give it back to Spike.

He looked at it dubiously, checking for dog-drool, and then placed it back on his head. Van, who had been looking at him hopefully, let out a resigned sigh and then turned back to Ed.

"So, Spike – who's the kid?"

Spike grinned and crouched down, put a head on Ed's shoulder.

"This, Mr. Striking Cobra, is none other than Radical Edward herself."

Van raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"_Herself_? I thought Radical Edward was -"

Ed paused in the middle of several dramatic and repeated bows, in order to shake a finger at Van.

"Radical Edward is me, and me is Radical Edward! Spike says, _Mr. Striking Cobra_! Are you a snake, funny blue man?"

Van seemed to go slightly purple, but Spike held up a restraining hand.

"Listen, Ed – how did you get here? Where's the _bebop_?"

Ed looked thoughtful for a moment, and then turned on her heel and began marching sharply back and forth in front of Spike.

"Faye-Faye said it was time to turn down the power, because Jet had been gone for too long! Ed sang a song for the death of the power, and then, WHOOSH!"

Ed _whooshed_ loudly and leapt upwards, limbs wiggling in all directions.

"A big ship came down; it was shouting!"

Van sniggered and ran a hand through his hair.

"Stupid kid, ships don't talk -"

But Spike held out a hand for silence and peered down at Ed with a serious face.

"What was it shouting, Ed?"

Ed began her sharp about-face march again.

"The ship said '_Pilots of this ship, you are to be detained and taken into custody by Mars Central police, according to Mars Civilian Government Ordinance eight-five-five dash B. Leave your engines off and your power emissions at minimum. We are coming down to take you out.'_"

Ed paused, did another about-face, and then continued.

"Then it said, _'Pilots of this ship, you are to be detained and taken into custody by Mars Central police, according to - '_"

But Spike tuned her out at that point; it was obvious to him now what had happened. Someone had sent his and Jet's names through to Mars Central police; they could have used any charge to get them to take the ship in.

_What's ordinance eight-five-five dash B, though? Never heard of that one..._

"But Ed, did you see what happened to Faye?"

Van tried to interrupt his questions.

"Hey, Spike, I thought I was gonna- "

"Shut it, Van. Ed, tell me. What happened to Faye?"

Ed pressed a finger against her lips, and swayed back and forth for a moment.

"Ed ran away to hide, and Faye-Faye fell down; one of the men from the talking ship took her away!"

Spike's blood went cold as ice.

"Oh, no. One of the Mars Central police?"

Ed nodded.

"Yep! Faye-Faye fell down, and then one of the police picked her up – and then she _fainted_!"

Spike stood a little straighter at that. Faye, fainting?

_That woman would _never _faint!_

The icy feeling dissipated, and he let out a long breath.

"What is she up to now, I wonder? She's the only one who can get the ship back, the papers are in her name now!"

A thought dawned on him then that redirected his frustration.

"Then again, that's probably a good thing, seeing as Jet'n I are both wanted..."

Spike saw Van's eyebrows go up again at this last comment, and turned to face him.

"Well, Van, does that square with what you saw?"

Van shrugged.

"Guess so. Couldn't say about the woman; didn't stay once I heard it was MCP coming down. I've got no reason to tangle with them over a stranger."

Spike gave him a hard look.

"Really? A stranger? But then how did you know it was my ship, Van? Don't give me any of this bull-"

"Alright, alright. Yeah, I saw her – real close up, too – told ya I thought she was a looker, didn't I? Pretty lady goes fainting right into the hands of some cop; he went off with her into the ship 'long with a coupla others, and I watched the rest of the squad go around with a pair of pictures."

He grinned.

"You shoulda seen the shot they got of _your_ lousy mug – but I recognized ya, sure enough. Who's the other guy?"

Spike frowned; he should've been back at that doctor's place long before now, Jet was probably worried...

_Gonna give me hell again, I bet_.

"The other guy is a friend of mine; it's his ship, actually. I was..."

He paused for a moment, half-thoughtful.

"I was just along for the ride."

Van shrugged.

"Hey, Spike- you're not really gonna keep my hat, are you? I mean, it completes my outfit; without it -"

"Ah, quit your whining. It's mine now; penalty fee."

Van spluttered.

"_Penalty fee_?!"

"Penalty fee. Didn't anyone ever tell you? Bounty hunters don't work for free."

Van jumped at that, as Spike had known he would. After all, there weren't many types of company more dangerous for criminals to keep than his. But after the jump, he got a surprise; that deep, belly laughter, as recognizable as his face.

"So you're a cowboy now, Spike? Keep it, then; fits your image better than mine."

From the ground between them came a pouting whine.

"But _Ed_ wants to be a cowboy _too!_"

Spike crouched down.

"There's more to it than style, Ed, you know that! You've gotta catch the bad guys if you wanna be a real cowboy!"

"Catch the bad guys? Ed will get them – Ed will get them all!"

Zapping and shooting at the top of her lungs, Ed cartwheeled away from Spike and out in the darkness of the park. Spike turned a little to the left and stared at Ein for a moment. Dog and man let out matching sighs.

"Keep an eye on her, will you?"

"_Arf_!"

* * *

A/N: Aha – another chapter! I feel so bad for being slow...but bear with me, the semester really is ending soon, and I'm far too lazy to get up at eight every morning for summer classes, so....:D

Anyway, presenting Ed, Spike and a very confused Van! I probably won't get another chapter up before the end of the semester – that's another couple weeks, guys, sorry – but you never know! So, Please Review, and I'll post soon as I can!

Much thanks to Sincerity for your review! Now that I've got this whole thing fixed and revised (chapters spontaneously deleted...:p) should be a little faster to update! :D


	8. Chapter 7: Hard Day's Night

_Chapter 7_

**Hard Day's Night**

* * *

As usual where Spike was involved, Jet had decided - after six hours of waiting - that it was best not to concern himself.

Five minutes after that he was staring at the door again. A minute after that, he turned to look at the other door in the room and called out to his sole companion in misery – although his companion's misery was mostly being caused by him.

"Hey, doc -"

He was immediately interrupted.

"No! For the _hundredth time_,Jet! No, I haven't heard anything, no, there's nothing on any channel, web _or_ vid, and No, You Cannot Move."

Jet sighed, and tried to wriggle uncomfortably, but the rustle from the bedding beneath him brought a glaring figure into the doorway on his right.

"What part of No, You -"

"Doc! Seriously, I can't be completely still! Anyway, when do you think this thing is going to be done?"

As one, both of their eyes focused on Jet's mangled leg, firmly encased in the _liberated_ bio-pod. He had been considerably more comfortable after the doc had figured out how to put only his leg in the damn thing. Spike had jammed him into it wholesale, and it had definitely been made for someone half his size – or maybe a third.

Currently, his leg below the knee was encased in some sort of jelly, surrounded by a thin but tough and unidentifiable film. The entire area was completely, blessedly numb; occasionally, a furious and intense itching had possessed the wounded tissues, but almost immediately, each time, the composition and consistency of the gel had changed, and the itch had faded.

"I can't tell for sure; you realize of course that by _done_, I mean that the tissue damage may be healed – this treatment doesn't seem to be doing anything for the bones, however, so those-"

Jet groaned.

"Those will still need time to set. I get it, I get it - but doc, I'm a wanted man. I told you that; even if they don't put a bounty on my head, they've still got it out for me and that puts you in danger as long as I'm here. If someone associates you with me -"

"I don't think that's really a problem, Jet. No one saw you come in, and you're not going to be going out for a long time, it looks like, so I don't think that's a problem. No, if anything it's your less than punctual friend that's going to get us in trouble. What do you know about him, Jet?"

Jet shrugged.

"Good in a fight; likes to sleep a lot. Whines _all_ the time – especially about food. Expensive as hell to keep around, but worth it, somehow...I don't know. Probably did a thousand things I would'a arrested him for, once, but I'm outta that business now. Cowboy, you know. Don't do anything except for the money these days."

Shrewdly, the doctor glared down at Jet's busted leg – and then hit him over the head, hard, with his ever-present clipboard.

"Ow! Hey, doc - "

"Shut up, Jet. There's nothing for you to do but sit as still as you can and wait. Your narcoleptic gun-toting companion will probably return shortly, but in the meanwhile I am going to resume my attempts to collect samples for study."

Jet sighed and settled back to watch the doc poke unsuccessfully at the _stuff_ that was on his leg, trying to penetrate the apparently impenetrable film. He had tried every single time the stuff had changed, but with no luck.

Abruptly, a terrible itch possessed Jet's leg. The gel bubbled and foamed and he sighed with relief; the itching sensation was moving sporadically, but as it did so the _stuff_ on it fizzed and assuaged his bitter nerve endings.

"Ha! Finally, got some! Should have known the protective envelope would be weakest during a state of flux...ah well. Oh! Hmm...well, isn't this interesting!"

Jet's eyes darted away from his leg and up to the squirming blob on the end of the doc's testing spatula.

"What...that's the stuff that's on my leg? What are you going to do with it?"

"Try to figure out what it is, of course! I'm going to get to work – do you want anything before I go?"

Jet thought for a moment and then turned his head to look towards the window. They were in the basement, but a faint bar of dim light still came through a slatted opening near the ceiling.

_What the hell, Spike! It's already dark – an hour, you said! _

"Nah, I don't want anything right now. Thanks, though."

"Don't mention it. If you need me, shout – loudly. The lab's on the other side of the house."

The doc disappeared through the right-hand door, and Jet went back to staring at the one on the left. He could think of a thousand things that might have happened to Spike; he knew better than to hope that nothing was going to go wrong.

_After all, where would be the fun in _that_?_

But he was forced to keep his sarcastic thought to himself; there was no one there to share it with.

That bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

* * *

The unavoidable consequences of Faye allowing Elissa to talk her into trying on the blue dress were not precisely _bad_, but did they did seem to spiral out of control. The dress itself was only really important in that later, Faye would blame the entire evening on it.

It began with the purchase. Having tried on what seemed to be every item of clothing in the store – including shoes, scarves, matching handbags, and hair accessories – Faye found herself standing beside Elissa at the register. In front of her was a mound of packages and a pile of items that were still being folded, wrapped, hung, or boxed. She watched as Elissa calmly passed her hand over a sensor station. An account chip imbedded in her palm twinkled, and as simply as that the woman had handed over enough money to purchase a small mining asteroid. There were so many zeros on the price tag that Faye actually felt _bad_ – and also dizzy.

Since she had been unable to prevent Elissa from spending a small fortune on a new wardrobe, Faye was determined that this little excursion end as soon as possible – but her companion had other plans. As soon as it was purchased, Faye was sent back into the dressing room to change back into the blue dress, this time with the appropriate undergarments, a pair of glittering heels, and a thin silver chain several feet long with which to secure the gauzy jacket that accompanied the dress.

"Faye, do you need any help?"

Elissa's voice echoed oddly from the changing room next to Faye's, and Faye repressed the urge to giggle.

_Where did that come from?_

"No, this dress is fantastic – no zippers!"

The other woman had no compunction about restraining _her_ giggles, and Faye shook her head as she examined herself in the mirror.

_Not bad, not bad_!

"What about you, Elissa?"

"Almost ready...I'm not sure about these shoes, though - "

"You have to wear them – you agreed! Or I won't wear mine, either, I'm afraid I'm going to go sliding right off that walkway and down, down, down..."

Faye's voice cut off, and she shuddered. She really wasn't kidding; parading around on suspended glass catwalks in heels was not her idea of a good night, but she couldn't deny that the sparkle of the shoes accented the silver embroidery in her dress.

"Ready, Faye?"

"Ready!"

In a burst of color and glitter and soft, rustling fabrics, the two women splashed out of their dressing rooms and compared garments. Elissa had already been pleased by Faye's dress, but now she was positively awed; Faye, however, was infinitely more surprised by the change that Elissa's elegant gown had wrought on the woman she had previously judged fairly plain. The soft emerald color of the dress was worked into many overlapping layers of thin fabric; still, the gown didn't bell or poof, just fluttered pleasingly as Elissa walked. The cut of the dress accented the fullness of her hips and breasts and slimmed her waist just a little – really, she was beautiful.

"What do you think, Faye? I know I'm no match for you - "

But Faye shook her head honestly and smiled a little.

"Silly, Elissa. You look absolutely gorgeous – really!"

"Really?"

As Faye nodded, Elissa shared her shimmering smile, and then took hold of her hand and dragged her down through the store. Faye stumbled all the way to a glittering projection at the very back of the store, and felt herself caught around the waist just as her feet gave way.

"Oh!"

She blushed scarlet when she realized that it was Allan she had crashed into so unceremoniously – Allan, who had had to catch her yet again. She consoled herself with the thought that at least the first time, she had fallen into him on purpose, even if _he _didn't know it...but he really didn't seem too concerned. Smugly, she thought that this wasn't surprising. She _was_ Faye Valentine after all, beautiful, sophisticated, elegant -  
She wobbled as Allan set her back on her feet, and Elissa clutched her hand, began apologizing profusely.

"Faye, I'm so sorry! I should never have – that was so stupid – are you alright?"

Faye let out an internal sigh.

"Please don't worry about it; I'm fine. Your brother is very good at saving me; thank you, Allan..."

Allan grinned. She felt his eyes run over her, once and then again; then he turned and looked at his sister. His grin turned into a beaming smile, and he held out an arm for each of them to hold onto.

"Elissa, you paid?"

"Of course."

"Alright, then."

He turned to the suited man standing next to the holoprojector and gestured towards the pile of packages that had been left by the register.

"Please, have all that delivered to our home; you have our address."

"Of course. Have a pleasant evening – ladies."

The attendant bowed shortly, and Allan led the way out.

"Well, since the two of you have dressed up so beautifully, we should take advantage of it, don't you think?"

Faye had a sinking feeling. She was trying to concentrate on walking without concentrating too much on what was really beneath her feet – not much. As much as she hoped Elissa would try to put a stop to her brother's outing, she was disappointed.

"You want to go out, Allan? What a fantastic idea – but where shall we go? We've already had dinner, and I think...ooh! Faye, you've never been to the Blue Star, have you?"

Faye hesitated, and then shook her head slowly.

"Not...not that I remember..."

Elissa looked momentarily horrified; Allan elbowed her none to gently in the ribs.

"Don't mind her, Faye; I think it's a good idea to go – as long as you both stay away from Eclipse!"

His voice took on a stern and warning tone that Faye had yet to hear from him; she was surprised, it made the blond man sound...well...like a man.

_Interesting. But I know all about Eclipse, Allan dear, and I know exactly why you don't want us to go near there. Don't really want to get too close myself; I don't have any contacts in a place like that. Waaay above my budget. _

Despite the fact that she knew exactly what he was talking about, she had to question him.

"Eclipse? What's that? I thought we were going to a place called Blue Star..."

"We are, we are."

Allan spoke quickly, soothingly.

"The Blue Star is a club, very high class – excellent music, excellent drinks, and an absolutely _fantastic_ view of Earth, depending on the time of year. But...there's this lounge attached – or at least they call it a lounge – Eclipse. Eclipse is just as hard to get into as Blue Star, and supposedly it's just as expensive, but for _very _different reasons. Uh...I guess you'd say that Blue Star is the legitimate half of the place, and Eclipse is the...illegitimate half."

Faye faked a shiver.

"Oh, well, I don't want to go in any place like that!"

Elissa clutched her arm in understanding fear; Faye had to stop herself from looking over her shoulder. Elissa and Allan could think what they liked; she had her own reasons for avoiding the dark side of Mars.

* * *

In the darkest shadows of the darkest corner of Terraque Park, Spike had taken Van aside for a question and answer session. He was hopeful that the other man would be honest with him; he couldn't think of any reason for Van to lie, but then again just because he couldn't think of one didn't mean it didn't exist.

_For all I know this whole thing could be some kind of elaborate setup, although...I've gotta say, that's looking more and more unlikely. _

Everything Van was saying to him made sense – too much sense. It seemed that Mars had become a darker, more dangerous place while he'd been bounty hunting aboard the _bebop_.

"Man, I gotta tell ya Spike, things just aren't the same as it was back when we started. Ten, fifteen years ago, a guy could get by on threats and promises – sure, nobody's hands stayed clean for long, but the ones in charge now..."

Van shook his head and leaned back against a tree, brought a hand up to ruffle his hair.

"I've seen a lot of nasty stuff, Spike, a lot of nasty stuff. You ever heard of TerraFirma?"

Spike closed his eyes thoughtfully, nodded his head.

"Yeah, I've heard of them. Big company, one of the first on Mars, right?"

Van nodded.

"Yeah – but TerraFirma wasn't one of the first, it _was _the first. TerraFirma sponsored a huge campaign way back in the days when colonization was still a thing of the future. Spent billions investing in the Green Air Project; they still own all the atmospheric testing and maintenance equipment – _and _they're the ones who seeded Mars.

Spike raised an eyebrow

"Seeded?"

"Yeah, you know – farms and stuff, the Sustainable Food Bureau, algae monitoring, weather control..."

"How do you _know_ all this stuff?"

Van shrugged and leaned forward, stretched his arms and rubbed one shoulder with half a scowl in Spike's direction.

"I'm not an idiot, you know. Word came down...oh, maybe six months ago, that the bosses were gettin' in with TerraFirma, going in with them on some sort of business deal. Rumors said we were gonna get control of all the air equipment, so that we could use it as a threat – blackmail on the whole planet, right?"

"I gotcha. So big business is making deals with criminal organizations, that's nothing new."

"Yeah, that's what I thought at first. Business as usual. Except it _isn't_ business as usual, Spike. Whatever it is the bosses are planning, hints and rumors have been enough to send lots of people running scared – me included, 'specially when I remembered all that crap you said back when - "

"Yeah, yeah. So you got scared of some deal and ran away. What _I _want to know is what this has to do with _me_."

"Then shut up and listen!"

There was a real snarl in Van's voice suddenly; his eyes glittered at Spike like hard, dark gems.

"There's not been more than hints and rumors, like I said. There are whispers that there are labs now under the syndicate headquarters, that these places are more protected than the Red Dragon's Den. Whispers that whatever goes on in those places, the people who go in don't go out. Lots of screaming, and a whole bunch of dead bodies, and lots of guys in lab coats cheering each other about how the devil was undetectable, or something..."

Spike had gone utterly still.

"Next thing I heard, they were looking for some guy – a doctor, I think - and when they found him there was some kind of celebration...after that, it went quiet. The people who had been dropping hints and spreading rumors disappeared. Bosses sent word down that there was another big mission coming up soon, and to be ready – but I took the opportunity to get out while everyone was distracted. I didn't have any big friends like you did; as far as I know, probably nobody noticed I'm even missing."

"What was that "big mission" they were talking about before you left?"

Van shrugged.

"Some chick they wanted to find, I think. See, the syndicate's gettin' a little big for itself, I think – making deals with _big_ big business, screwing around with the army - "

"You didn't say anything about the army."

"Huh? Oh, well that was the last straw for me, you know? TerraFirma, the bosses, and some Mars Army guy with crazy eyes all had a meeting. I only know he was Mars Army 'cause he was in uniform – stupid, right, walking into the Red Dragon's Den in an MA uniform!"

Spike shook his head slowly. He could feel a sensation like building heat behind his eyes, in his fingers as he clenched his fists.

"I don't know. Maybe not stupid at all. Tell me – this Mars Army guy with crazy eyes, what did he look like?"

Van shrugged, but Spike was suddenly in his face, holding him tightly by the collar of his jacket.

"Tell me what he looked like!"

"Whoa there, Spike, easy now!"

Slowly, one clenched, uncurling finger at a time, Spike let go of the blue leather and eased back onto his heels.

"Tell me."

Van eyed him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Didn't see too much. Crazy eyes, like I said; tall guy, blond, muscles – army type, you know what I'm talking about."

Spike forced himself to nod.

_Soldier-boy! _

"You said – they wanted a woman? What was her name?"

"Yeah...man, Spike, I'm bad at names...uh...Erica? No...uh...Rebecca?"

Somehow, Spike forced the name out of his throat.

"_Electra_?"

Van brightened and thumped him on the back.

"Hey, yeah! There you go, buddy – oh...uh-oh..."

Slowly, Van removed his hand from Spike's shoulder and took one step back.

"What's up, Spike? You still there? Spike?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here. Listen, Van – that woman, she was...a friend of mine. And the people – the people who killed her...seems like they're all_ friends_ of mine, too. You better go somewhere far away and stay the hell outta this; I don't want to get you killed."

Van snorted, and Spike looked up at him quickly, eyes burning, face all dark shadows – and Van snorted again.

"Please, Spike; you forget, I was there when the syndicate boys picked you up the first time, I've seen that look before. Now, I'm not gonna let you run off all by yourself – and I sure as _hell_ ain't gonna let you run me off my own new territory. Already made me look bad; dammit, Spike, what d'ya think you're gonna do all alone?"

Spike turned away, shrugged, fished in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes.

"Same thing I always do."

"Oh, great – so run in, guns blazing, get blown to hell, and wake up with some weirdo blowing smoke at you?"

Spike couldn't hold back a little chuckle at that.

"You remember?"

Van shook his head.

"'Course I remember! Anyway – look, I figure I know somebody, might be able to get a lead on some of the guys you're lookin' for."

Spike rummaged in his jacket, scowled around his unlit cigarette, and began to feel his pants pockets.

"Good lord, Spike, you still can't keep track of a damn lighter?"

A flame flashed up in front of his face, and Spike leaned forward carefully, eying the man across from him through the smoke and red flicker.

"Alright, then. Who's this _somebody_, and where would we have to go?"

Van grinned.

"Somebody you don't know. But as to where – ever heard of Eclipse?"

Spike swore.

* * *

A/N: And, finally, another chapter! It may be a while before there is more, because I have four classes and an honor's thesis to work on, but more as soon as I can, of course! Anyway, please Review!


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